


I Met You In Tokyo

by OpaqueXApathy



Category: The Expendables (Movies)
Genre: Background Slash, Barney struggles to cope with that, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Time, Gunnar can be a self destructive manic asshole, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Male Slash, On-Again/Off-Again Relationship, Past Relationship(s), Yang in all his awesomeness, its a 'how I met you' kinda story, slash everywhere!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-07
Updated: 2016-04-06
Packaged: 2018-02-12 04:14:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2095371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OpaqueXApathy/pseuds/OpaqueXApathy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Expendables aren't completely off the ground yet when Gunnar and Barney do a job in Japan. Predictably (because that seems to be Gunnar's running luck lately) things quickly go wrong, descending into chaos. Somewhere in that chaos Gunnar meets Yang. Superseding language barriers, crooked cops, and all the crime syndicates in Japan - the two have to make it out alive, separated from any help but each other. What results is a very unexpected relationship that just might be crazy enough to work.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

 

 

Things were good.

Better than good, things were better than they had been in a long time. Barney, he was still adjusting to that name, had gotten him out of a bad situation and had made a space for him in his bed that he probably didn't deserve.

He _knew_ he didn't deserve it. But he tried. Didn't that matter?

He'd taken the name Gunnar Jensen because it was normal, mostly, and anything cliché to his Swedish and Russian heritage was already exhausted. He'd ditched names before, that wasn't anything new to him really, but Barney's was a big damn adjustment for some reason. It wasn't that the man didn't _look_ like a Barney. It was just that out of all the names, Gunnar wasn't too sure besides his mostly secret love for boxing why Barney had picked that one in particular. And maybe over thinking it wasn't exactly the point. But Gunnar had come to love a man, years ago, with a much different name. Accepting this other name was surprisingly difficult. Not bad. But still an adjustment.

Gunnar had honestly been surprised the man didn't hate his guts. While he'd never done anything to him, exactly, they'd been born on opposite sides of the fence. Any other American special forces soldier should have killed him, _would_ have killed him. And then there was the matter of getting into drugs – bad. Barney had said he'd hated the person the drugs made him and Gunnar agreed. Wholeheartedly. He wouldn't exactly admit it out loud but he didn't like what the meth and cocaine did to him either – who would?

So Barney had left. He'd left their on and off again relationship – again, and Gunnar had lost himself in more drugs, the KGB, and freelance work as an assassin. He'd done bad things, horrible things, and he'd completely and irrevocably lost himself in the process. Gunnar heard that Barney tried to start a team of mercenaries and was mostly successful but then the bastard he'd teamed up with had betrayed him. The details were mostly sketchy and Barney still wasn't talking about it.

And then he'd come back. Gunnar really hadn't expected it. Hadn't expected him to fight so hard, to care so much still, and he really had fought him. But Barney hadn't left this time. He'd made an ultimatum. Gunnar could get clean and they could give this one more try or it would be exactly that. One more try and never another. He'd never come back and he'd be gone for good if Gunnar did the typical and lit their relationship on fire again.

Gunnar had been so fucked up and riding such a jagged line between going out in gory blaze of tainted glory that he'd taken the life line offered. The drugs might have done a number on his brain but he wasn't stupid. And more than anything he'd felt empty inside, still in love with a man who had given him a chance decades ago when he'd been more pure. Far less tainted. Not that being a Spetznas killing machine fresh out of training was 'pure'.

He and Barney were both hollow, jaded, and varied between a little and a lot broken – though Barney preferred to be called 'cracked' instead of broken. And he'd let himself grasp onto the hope that maybe they could fill all their black, jagged empty spaces in their hearts and souls with each other. Even if just for awhile. Because he really couldn't promise the drugs wouldn't get him eventually, they always did. But he lied. Because he wanted to try, he desperately didn't want to fail Barney, and the trust the somewhat older man placed in him was something infinitely precious.

No one trusted him. No one trusted the crazy Russian with a drug addiction and a death wish. When he was younger he had been a tool. Nothing to put trust in. Only something to be used. But Barney had trusted him then and afterwords and pretty much for the rest of their lives. Pretty much. Until that one day he had snapped, taking a bit too much drugs and drinking a bit too much. He'd only done a line a day or so. Just enough to keep him awake and moving and alive. But that day he'd done far more. Reached the line, said fuck it, and jumped right over it like the idiot even his former genius intellect couldn't really protect himself from. He'd ended up going off the deep end, riding a high the likes of which he didn't want to come down from, turning an already botched mission into something far worse and laughing in the face of their monumental screw up. And he'd ended up scaring Barney in the process.

 _Actually_ scaring the man. He'd tried to apologize later, he really did, after Barney had him tied up for hours and after enduring a bit of ice cold water torture that he'd well and deserved. It had worked to bring him down far faster than he would have otherwise. It had brought him back from a brink he probably would have never come back from. And he'd known it had wounded a piece of Barney to do that to him. To hurt him. To _actually_ have to hurt him. Gunnar had never asked to be forgiven for that because he knew that it had been asking far too much. All of it.

Barney had trust issues. He'd been used by his government too. And by horrible women. That day had shaken a once unwavering trust. It had 'cracked' it.

Later Gunnar would have nearly destroyed it and Barney had walked. So when he'd shown up again, years later, Gunnar hadn't been stupid.

Now, their two man mercenary team was doing damn good. The money mostly went to expanding on Barney's plans of a team and that was okay. They still lived good. Hell Gunnar would take living in a box if it meant keeping Barney and he'd be perfectly happy. Barney's best friend, Tool, was a talented if not very reluctant doctor so they didn't have to worry about blowing it all if they got a few inevitable holes, scrapes, cuts, or wounds. Another big perk.

But nothing compared to Barney. Who trusted him. Trusted _him_. Believed in him. Loved him. Barney, who kept him safe from himself, and who Gunnar would die for – in an instant.

Gunnar splashed some water on his face, cold as hell but not nearly as cold as the water Barney had used on him nearly six months ago. Rehab had been hell. Once, in the worst of the fevers, he'd hallucinated he was actually on fire. Barney was damn strong but shorter than him by a good six inches. He hadn't really been able to stop a crazed Swede from running through a sliding glass door and taking a dive, screaming, into a pool. It was a miracle Gunnar hadn't drowned them both in the ensuing struggle to get him out and he nearly had.

He owed everything to Barney. Everything. He couldn't fail him now.

Another large handful or two of ice cold water to his face and it just wasn't cold enough and it barely left a dent, did little to make him feel _awake_. It was partially why he had taken to drugs. It was the only thing that had made him feel human, alive, awake. Not a zombie, not like he was walking in a perpetual fog, a sludge. True the drugs had made all those 'perks' a crazy, irrational version of all three but it had been something. He'd made a promise to Barney that he'd die before he failed to keep. But he didn't know how much longer he could fight the cravings, the urges.

Drying off his face with a towel by the sink, Gunnar tossed it aside, straightening and pulling his expression into something close to normal. Barney would be here soon and then they had to ship out to Japan. Some mission, big money, easy stuff really. Beyond easy. Big cities just made him itchy, anxious. Made him want to get lost.

He was walking out of the bathroom when Barney walked through the front door. By the way the older Italian mercenary gave him a brief, roving glance, he was assuming he'd pulled off a pretty casual and relaxed saunter even though he felt as though he wanted to itch out of his own skin and how every loud noise made him want to _destroy_ something.

“Ready to head out?” Barney smiled, his tone a bit warm.

Barney was here. He was a distraction. He was safety and warmth. He took the edge off the urgings and cravings. He gave him _new_ urgings as a matter of fact. Ones that were much, much better.

“Not quite.” Gunnar said, low with just an undercurrent of a growl as he rounded on the man.

Barney didn't remotely move to stop him and Gunnar felt pleased about that. Real pleased. He _hated_ when he didn't get what he wanted. It made him feel unworthy, denied, and undeserving. Frustrated, sometimes painful so. He understood if there was a legit reason but even that didn't stop him from sinking into a black despair or depression about it. What had Tool called it? Barney and Tool had found a name for it or something he might have. Cyclothemia. Or some form of bipolar disorder. Whichever, it was no shock. Gunnar had always known something wasn't completely normal in his head.

Barney was closest to the fridge when he reached him, the ancient off white dirty thing near the door that they had a board propped under to keep it from leaking. He heard it slide off the boards completely and rattle to the floor with a loud thump as he pressed Barney into the fridge, meeting his lips with a passionate, possessive, needy feeling that never stopped shaking him. And the hand that automatically reached up to grasp at his hair was equally possessive, causing Gunnar to release a pleased, soft groan that was more a growl.

And then Barney was pushing him back. But not _off_ so Gunnar let him. He could easily have leaned all his two hundred and fifty pounds into the smaller man and refused to move until he'd thoroughly ravished and claimed his mouth. But then Barney's hands were stripping off his shirt, he was shoving the other man's jeans off – almost breaking the belt around them.

They were naked by the time they reached the bed, Gunnar willingly submitting to Barney as he laid back on the bed, letting the other man push him down with firm hands, biting, teasing kisses, and the assurance of his hard – leaking erection full and thick against his ribs.

Neither man wasted time. They'd done something the day before so Gunnar didn't exactly need much preparation. It was an arranging of limbs, it usually was, Barney finally bracing a hand on the bed under one of Gunnar's knees and the other hand on his chest. He was leaning on him but the Swede barely noticed, his eyes falling closed and letting out a strangled groan of relief as his lover pushed his thick, hard length inside of him. He might have gasped Barney's name, his real name, and there was a breath of dissatisfaction above him that was equal parts affectionate.

And then Barney was grasping his hips and Gunnar had to practically bend himself in half but that was okay because he was flexible and he could and it drove Barney in impossibly deeper. Right _there_ where the lightening flashes of pleasure come from until he's seeing stars. Until he's seeing all those stars as white as the ones on the American flag Barney felt so close to himself. Even still. Even after getting screwed over by his government just like Gunnar had been.

Gunnar grasped at the sheets, Barney held onto him. The room became stifling hot but it had been to begin with. The pleasure was drowning him and he couldn't get enough. The burn, the stretch of his ass, being fully taken and owned and claimed. In a way that didn't make him feel dirty. Made him feel as _pure_ as he used too. Unused, serving a purpose. Difference was – this purpose wasn't a lie.

Just like that first time, almost, back when he hadn't been so fucked up – just brainwashed to kill – in an old military helicopter owned by the US Army. Barney had taken him just like this, when they should have been enemies, blowing each others brains out instead of fucking them. Hell he hadn't even spoken much English back then but boy Barney had taught him all the right words. More than anything though he had taught him the most important word of all.

Love.

Barney came before him, he always did, but that wasn't through a lack of trying or any sort of endurance on Barney's part. Gunnar had always had too much sexual endurance for his own good but Barney had never seemed to mind. When they had more time the older man would make love to him until he came in his ass, just like now, making Gunnar more vocal than he'd ever be usually. He'd keep stroking inside of him until he was hard again and take him for another round or take him in his mouth and finger him and work him over until Gunnar couldn't stand anymore or came right then in his mouth. And if he didn't, Barney would sit over top of him, taking all of Gunnar's length in his ass, and ride him until he came deep inside – until his come ran down his thighs and over them both. Until they were both exhausted.

Just like that first time.

They didn't have time for that this morning but Barney did ride him, slow and steady until he came, driving Gunnar in impossibly deep as he talked to him in a whole litany of dirty things – his voice low and quiet. As if they had all the time in the world instead of already being pretty damn late.

To show his appreciation, Gunnar made them ten minutes later by blowing him in the plane.

 

                                                                                                                                     _                        _                         _

Tokyo was humid today. The plane ride was mostly peaceful silence though Gunnar could tell Barney was on edge due to the 'delay' in getting here on time. He'd wanted to apologize but he hadn't been able to find the words. Something else seemed to be bothering the older mercenary and Gunnar didn't have the courage to ask what. It _could_ be about him or their relationship and the odds of that wasn't something he wanted to screw with.

They'd split up an hour ago – the mission two parts, one after the other. Gunnar had to take out a dirty cop some Japanese bureaucrat was sick of selling out his dirty election secrets to the Triads. See his family was Yakuza and if he wanted those secrets going anywhere, he didn't want them going to the other side. Barney would be across the city, miles away, breaking into the police officer's house and wiping his laptop before setting a little convenient house fire to destroy whatever else secrets the house held. Barney had enlisted some outside help this time for the more technical work, a talented transporter who would then take whatever they found and the data backed up from the computer to the equally dirty Japanese senator.

Gunnar hadn't met the transporter and he didn't give a damn about him. If Barney trusted him as much as he claimed he did, he would leave it at that. Gunnar didn't trust anyone but Barney.

Everything was going fine. Perfectly according to plan actually. Gunnar had chosen a rooftop close to where this dirty cop, Takashi, was hanging out with his Triad buddies. There were some hookers around, just a few, no other civilians. He was sitting near another guy, a smaller Asian man Gunnar thought he recognized from their intel but otherwise dismissed. He was close to him but not close enough that Gunnar would have to put a bullet through his head to get to Takashi's.

Something about that other man was bothering him though...

His expression was pensive, serious, almost pissed off. Like he didn't really want to be there. Gunnar would have never immediately pinned him as just another criminal low life or a dirty cop even. While he looked like he could handle himself, all the quietness of a cobra, his posture mocked and imitated relaxed. As if it was something he was copying for the sake of it. He wasn't sneering or laughing at the hookers, he wasn't even looking at them, didn't seem to be apart of the group of men at all. He wasn't fitting into the picture.

Gunnar clamped down, stilling his entire body, and tightened his finger around the trigger. And just a microsecond before he squeezed off the first shot, he saw it happen and knew he couldn't stop it – that somber, attractive, out of place, smaller Asian grabbed his buddy next to him and pulled him to the floor out of the way. Glass shattered, hookers screamed, everyone started whipping out guns and Gunnar took his eyes away from the scope – staring at the window in shock. He _never_ missed a target.

“What the hell?” he managed. Or rather _how_ the hell had that fucking guy pulled the other one out of the way? How had he even _known_?

Gunnar abandoned the rifle and stood up, giving the window a disapproving glare as he headed for the stairs. He'd come back for it if he could, it was expendable and he didn't have too, but now he had much bigger problems.

“ _Problems?”_ Barney asked in his ear. He'd probably heard him take the shot and then his curse afterwords.

“Nothing I can't handle.” Gunnar took out the mic from his ear, dropped it on the ground, and stomped on it.

 _Now_ he was pissed.

He had to go all the way down there and kill the bastard personally. Everyone would be all hyped up and shooting and shit and Gunnar really wasn't in the mood. To kill someone? Oh yeah right now definitely. But he'd much rather have done that four hundred yards away laying down.

In his pocket his cell phone vibrated. He ignored it.

He was coming across the street now, kicking in a door in the alley and ignoring some panicked civilians as they fled.

Five flights of stairs later he was taking five at a time, his cell vibrating again and, irritated, Gunnar reached down to answer it.

“ _What_?” he snapped, taking out a gun from a side holster under his jacket. He was getting close, if the frantic Japanese yelling he was hearing from above was any indication.

“ _There's been a change of plans. The senator's son is with Takashi. He's 5'5-”_

“Asian?” Gunnar asked wryly.

The long suffering, short sigh he got in turn was worth it. _“He's Takashi's partner! Don't kill him, you hear me? If he dies – this is all over.”_

Gunnar came up short. Oh yeah. His cop partner. The serious, shorter Asian man sitting beside Takashi that had no interest in the hookers and didn't look happy to be there. _That's_ why he looked familiar.

“I got it.” Gunnar said, low and determined, shutting the phone off and putting it in his pocket. He was close now and he could feel himself settling into an icy calm. Time to go on a killing spree.

 

TBC

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Gunnar was immediately greeted by five or six armed and angry Triad gunmen and they were really happy to start shooting. Gunnar was all too happy to return fire but he remembered what Barney had told him over the phone. The senator’s son was to be protected. Easier said than done considering it was like the man had already vanished. And wasn’t that a pain in the ass. Hopefully he didn’t have a bullet in him already.

Glass shattered just behind Gunnar’s head but he hardly flinched. It did piss him off enough though. Enough to happily welcome the guy who had fired at him as he tossed his gun angrily to the side and came at him with an angry yell.

Gunnar was proficient in a number of martial arts. To the point that between his size and his skill level he never really worried about anyone getting the upper hand. But martial artists... small, quick martial artists could be somewhat of a pain. Fortunately though he got a hold of the guy quick and a punch to his face he didn’t hold back ended things really quick. Actually Gunnar was pretty sure the guy might be dead.

Gunnar dropped the guy, letting him fall heavily to the floor, and raised his arms just in time to stop a kick to his face. And getting a firm hold of his assailant's leg and his shirt he turned on his heel and threw him through a glass office window that was still intact just to the left. For some reason, finding that kind of hilarious, Gunnar gave a happy chuckle. Collateral damage always made him happy. Especially when it was the comical kind. And wasn't it always?

He pointed at the unconscious man on the floor in a sprawl of broken glass. “Don’t go anywhere.”

The rest of the office level on this floor seemed empty but Gunnar wasn’t fooling himself. There had been a lot more Yakuza in that room even if it was a few floors up from this one. And Takashi, on top of everything else, was probably still alive. Gunnar was going to have to go through a lot of people to make sure he didn’t walk out of this alive and he was fine with that. It was just a lot of damn work.

Gunnar barely evaded a flying kick to his face when he came around a corner and that was the least of his problems. Someone opened up with an automatic despite the chance of hitting his two buddies and while Gunnar was able to use one as a shield, effectively killing him in the process, the Yakuza henchman wasn’t big enough to cover his whole body and Gunnar felt a burning pain in his arm he knew meant he’d just taken a bullet. But it felt like a graze and Gunnar took a gun from the man he’d used as a human shield, dropping the guy with the automatic and rounding it on another down the hall. But the gunman was much closer now than he had been before and he wasn’t alone. Gunnar pushed his human shield aside and deflected a kick that had been aimed at his ribs, punching the guy in the face and kicking the guy behind him in the stomach.

Dazed now, ‘punch-to-the-face’ came at Gunnar with far more enthusiasm but he was practically unconscious on his feet. Gunner finished him a kick to his stomach, throwing him into his buddy and then picking up the gun he’d dropped, finishing off the two men with two quick shots.

And he don’t know where the hell he came from but suddenly Gunnar wasn’t alone. And the guy he came face to face with wasn’t happy.

Takashi.

He was too quick for Gunnar to get a shot off at him, so quick that he barely had time to toss his gun aside to meet him blow for blow in the narrow hallway he’d found himself in. And ‘quick’ was not even a word to touch the guy. Gunnar was strictly defensive for the first few seconds, sacrificing parts of his anatomy to take blows that would be far less damaging and painful than other parts of his body. That was an up side of being big and weighing a fourth of one of the Japanese compacts outside in the street. He could take punishment and spare places that really couldn’t take as much. But that wasn’t going to work long. Takashi was serious, pissed, and good.

 _This_ is why they'd decided to take Takashi out from yards away instead of up close. He was too skilled of a martial artist, too deadly in armed combat to get the job done quickly and efficiently. And since Gunnar's specialty was the sniper rifle, it had been a perfect marriage of death without the destruction. Well... it had been. All that had pretty much gone out the window now.

Gunnar got serious and he fought back hard. Getting a hold of Takashi made things easier but by the time that happened Gunner knew he’d actually taken a beating. So when he drove his knee into the Takashi’s ribs, he didn’t spare the force of it. He heard bones crack and felt the young Triad's rib cage give way, the man screaming in pain in Gunnar's grasp. And it sounded wet. Suddenly though, Gunnar felt something slice through his ribs - cold steel right into hot flesh, the pain white hot.

He let out a surprised grunt, gritting his teeth. It wasn’t bad. It really wasn’t good either but it wasn’t going to kill him. So Gunnar acted fast, picking up Takashi by his neck from behind, lifting him off his feet and squeezing as hard as he could with his arms - violently twisting. A snap was all that wrote of Takashi. There hadn’t been much fight left after Gunnar had shattered his rib cage anyway.

Gunnar paused for a moment to catch his breath. Which was painful. The knife hadn’t punctured his lungs, Takashi hadn’t had the strength to drive it in real deep, but it had pushed through a rib and was bleeding enough to annoy him. Gunnar could feel something hot and wet on his face too and he knew it was blood. A cut had opened up right on his cheek bone. One of the worst places to get stitches. Fortunately though it hadn't been a cut over his eye, obscuring his vision during the fight, or that could have made the situation a whole lot worse.

Rolling over Takashi with a foot, the Triad's lifeless eyes stared past him at the ceiling, mouth parted in shock and agony. Gunner found a gun, put a bullet in his head for undeniable proof that he was dead, and then took out his cell phone to take a picture to send to Barney to pass along to the senator.

“Say cheese.” Gunnar murmured, having to concentrate just a bit harder - feeling momentarily a bit lightheaded. Silently he chastised himself. He hadn’t lost _that_ much blood. Hungry. He was hungry.

Миссия выполнена . <3 Gunnar texted, smiling a bit to himself. 'Mission accomplished'.

All that remained was taking care of any witnesses and making sure the senator’s son hadn’t taken any bullets and was still alive. Gunnar was guessing the odds of that were pretty good. Most of the fight had come to him. The guy had probably run off at the first sign of trouble and was already home with daddy.

It was more an uncanny sense that hit Gunnar just then. An awareness.

He knew within the space of a second of finishing and sending that text with an attached picture of Takashi’s lifeless body that he was no longer alone. Even though there wasn’t a single sound that could have alerted Gunnar to the fact that he was no longer alone.

Gunnar looked up and there he was. The senator’s son. Takashi’s partner.

Oh.

Gunnar carefully put his phone back in his pocket, casually, giving the man a smile. “It wasn’t personal.”

The man just stood there but in the space of that moment Gunnar learned more than a few things about the man. One, he had been close to Takashi. Made sense being his partner and all. He really didn’t look happy about seeing him dead at Gunnar’s feet. Two, he was Chinese. Not Japanese. Which was pretty damn curious to Gunnar. There wasn’t a lot of discrimination between the two races anymore in Japan or China but in older circles like the Triad and the Yakuza? It could be pretty steep.

But there was something else about him. Something Gunnar couldn’t help but feel attracted to. Probably the wrong time and place, maybe just a little inappropriate timing, but he had always had a thing for Asians. Woman, men, it really didn’t matter. But Asian women turned his head far more than the men. This one though... he was attractive. And Gunnar couldn’t help but feel curious despite the situation. There was just something about him. Something... more than all the scum Gunnar just laid waste to. A lot more. And Gunnar didn’t know how to explain it but he felt like he was looking at a good person.

“You’re a cop... right?” Gunnar tried. He wasn’t so sure the man could speak English. Some of the ones Gunnar had just killed had sure called him some colorful English words.

The man said nothing and Gunnar struggled to remember his name from the file on Takashi. His cop partner had been listed but he’d pretty much glossed over that as temporarily unimportant. Now it felt really important.

Gunnar took a step over his dead partner, a motion that was really not lost on the stoic Chinese man staring at him, his eyes flickering quickly from Takashi and back to Gunnar. Gunnar raised his hands, making sure none of his movements were too quick. He could just tell that Takashi’s partner was probably thinking of a million or so ways he could kill him. Behind that pretty unreadable expression, there was a lot going on. He was thinking, quickly, an intelligence in those dark eyes. And it was kind of a turn on.

“If you’re a cop.” Gunnar tried. “You know that this man wasn’t doing good things. Raping little girls? Selling heroine overseas? Selling out the Triad? Can’t tell me you didn’t know about any of that.”

He understood him. Gunnar realized that in a heartbeat as the man’s eyes fell to Takashi, his expression ever so subtly changing to that of pain, brief and quick and over as quick as it had come. When he looked up at Gunnar it was all gone. But he was smart. Gunnar could tell he was smart.

“Those hookers up there? Didn’t seem to be your thing either.”

Which made Gunnar want to happily assume this stoic, tense - very attractive man - might like the male gender instead of the opposite. That was the thing though. It was hit or miss with Asian men. Overseas in America? Sure Gunnar could easily find one to sleep with if the mood struck him. But in repressed Chinese and Japanese society it was harder to pin down. The older the family, the older the traditions. One had to find a pretty ‘new age’ family for it to be acceptable or walk into a certain club. In either culture it was all about family. And assuming this man was a senator’s son and his family was old - very old - Gunnar was guessing the chances were pretty slim. Which was disappointing.

“Matter of fact? None of this seems to be your thing.” as he spoke, Gunnar took small, cautious steps forward. The man seemed ready to bolt. Or kill him. Either seemed possible. “Which makes me think you’re a cop because you want to help people. Not because you want to do all those things Takashi was involved in. Am I right?”

Gunnar didn’t dare come any closer, leaving six or so meters between them. “This was going to happen to Takashi either way. If it wasn’t me, it would be someone else. And you know that.”

The man’s eyes met his and pinned Gunnar in place. Oh yeah, he knew that.

“I’m guessing you’re a good person. I’m guessing you’re involved in all this because your father is. Growing up, I’m guessing that you didn’t really have a choice.” Gunnar tipped his head down towards him, holding his gaze. “Am I right? About any of this? If I am you have to come with me. Because-” he took in a breath, the sounds of sirens rapidly descending on the building. “Cops are going to be the least of our trouble if we don’t get moving. We’re balls deep in Triad territory. And who do you think they’ll blame for all this? Me? Or the son of a Yakuza senator.”

That seemed to do it. The man took a step towards Gunnar, eyes cautious and full of an unwavering, simple threat. Try anything and Gunnar knew it would be met with swift, angry violence.

Gunnar only wished he could remember his damn name.

They made it out to the alley after an elevator ride that Gunnar refused to make awkward, shooting the senator’s son an exhausted smile that could drop most panties. All right... Gunnar wasn't so full of himself to admit that he wasn't as young as he used to be. And even back then he'd never been the most 'gifted' when it came to flirting. He more or less came across as psychotic but hey. It had never stopped him from trying. And Gunnar didn’t know what this man wore under his clothing but he was firmly guessing it wasn’t panties because the flustered look he got in return could melt rocks. It angrily said ‘not now’ though and didn’t really come across as ‘not ever’. Which was surprisingly promising. Gunnar would admit that he had a ‘no’ problem.

Gunnar reminded himself to behave, barely managed it as they found an exit to the alley through a kitchen. They had to keep moving and a lack of food was Gunnar's last concern although his stomach was ready to argue. But the drop in blood sugar seemed to give him a sense of sudden clarity.

“Ying.”

The senator’s son promptly stopped, putting a hand to the brick wall and turning a look in his direction. That was his name all right.

Mengyao Ying.

Man. He’d been a lot quicker of a thinker before Meth.

When Ying had taken the lead Gunnar wasn’t sure but he trusted him with a gut instinct he couldn’t explain. They were both in a good deal of shit right now, Gunnar was still bleeding and starting to feel the symptoms of blood loss creeping in and that wasn’t making him think so well either, past drug induced brain damage aside. That and Ying seemed to know these back alleys far better than Gunnar ever would have. Wasn’t so sure he would have gotten out of that building nearly so quickly without him that was for sure.

The fact that Ying wasn’t trying to lose him was surprising. Gunnar was realizing as they moved from back alley to alley, through the sharp turns, that he easily could. He was as fast as Takashi and Gunnar was a truck in comparison. Especially as sluggish as he was starting to feel. Maybe that knife had gone in deeper than he’d thought.

Didn’t seem to matter how quick they were moving though because suddenly, gunshots resounded from behind them, ricocheting off the alley walls far too close for comfort. Gunnar pressed himself against the nearest wall and took out the automatic he’d stolen from a nameless Triad he’d killed, returning fire at least to get them to stop for the time being. To keep them busy until he could find cover.

Ying wasn’t wasting time with that, kicking open a door and darting inside. Gunnar quickly followed him mostly because he was forced to, keeping his head down as more shots rang out in quick succession. Yep. They were pissed.

The door led to a narrow set of stairs and that was about it, Gunnar following Ying up them. As quickly as he could. Which again, Gunnar assumed Ying was slowing down for his benefit. It wasn’t long before Gunnar heard them being pursued and just as he began to feel winded to the point of dizziness and an uncomfortable burn in his lungs, they burst through a door onto the roof and tactfully this was bad news. Up here they were cornered.

But Ying seemed to know what he was doing, racing right for the roof ledge and jumping off. Gunnar didn’t have time to think about slowing. He just took a blind leap of faith and jumped too.

There was another rooftop waiting for him and it wasn’t too far of a drop. Enough to make him think that they were jumping off a building to their death below that was for sure. The building hadn’t been visible at all from the buildings above it. And Ying just kept moving, taking a sharp turn, and by this time they were evading bullets as they crossed more rooftops towards who only knew where.

Another jump, one that Gunnar had to roll his whole body into to stop from breaking something, made his teeth rattle and the shoulder that had taken a majority of the impact of the fall felt like it had been forced painfully hard into it’s socket. Enough to make Gunnar momentarily breathless and his vision swim dangerously, blackening briefly around the edges.

“Shit.” Gunnar cursed, stumbling to his feet but only barely. His age was showing. And he wasn't going to be able to keep this pace long.

They were in an older section of Tokyo now, much older, and the next roof they jumped on was ornate ceramic tile. Needless to say, they didn’t take Gunnar’s weight all that well and some of them careened off the roof, shattering to the ground below, almost sending the Swede with them.

Gunnar felt a hand on his arm, small in comparison to the size of his body but strong, and he looked up just to see Ying’s determined expression as he pulled them both over the other side of the roof. Where they promptly went crashing through something that might have been considered an ancient thatched skylight.

Instinctively Gunner grabbed Ying, letting out a surprised yell of 'shit' as they fell right through the roof who new how far to whatever ground waited for them below. Thankfully it wasn’t that far of a fall but boy did Gunnar feel it. Taking Ying with him, he broke a majority of their fall with his own body, the smaller Asian man ending up sprawled over a majority of Gunnar's much larger frame. And that pretty much made up for all the rest.

“Gee.” Gunnar managed through his pain. “Lucky for us-” he gave a short, winded breath. “These really thin tatami mats broke our fall.”

Ying rolled his eyes with a look that was almost amused, standing up and grasping onto Gunnar’s shirt. As if he was actually going to help him up. Or try. Which to Gunnar was laughable. But what the man lacked in size, he seemed to more than make up for in sheer determination. Gunnar was forced to try and get himself to his feet just because Ying clearly wasn’t going to stop trying to get him there.

Gunnar gave his head a shake once he was standing, waiting for his vision to clear a bit as the change in blood pressure from falling, to laying, to standing up tried to assert itself back to something that was normal. Beside him, Ying brushed off some dust from his shirt, pulling it down sharply in an attempt to rid it of some wrinkles.

“You all right?” Gunnar asked.

Clearly he was. In far better shape than Gunnar that was for sure. And predictably he didn't answer.

Gunnar watched as Ying pulled a grate in the floor open and figured that was their way out. Instead,  Ying left it half propped open and headed for a sliding screen door across the room. Gunnar quickly followed, glancing behind them at the grate curiously. Smart. And that was hot.

After checking to make sure the alley on the other side was clear after a glance, Gunnar stepped out with Ying into the sunshine.

 

They covered a lot of ground. So much that by the time Ying finally stopped it was nearly dark and Gunnar was completely exhausted. Almost too exhausted to climb the small ladder Ying was ascending, to the second floor of a smaller building.

“Nice view.” he grinned. Ying ignored him.

Where he was going Gunnar wasn’t even sure but Ying answered that by sliding a window open and then swiftly climbing into the building, gone from view in the space of a second. The Asian made everything look so damned easy.

Gunnar let out a breath and then climbed up after him.

The room looked like a run down hotel room, complete with a small kitchen, Gunnar watching curiously as Ying took out some money from his wallet. He put it on a tray and then slid that under the hotel room door which probably led into the main hallway. Ying locked the door, sliding the deadbolt across for good measure, moving almost methodically, like he had a system and it appealed to Gunnar's own natural chaos. The stability was comforting.

Taking out his cell phone from his pocket, Gunnar winced seeing at least seven unread text messages and about fifteen missed calls. Noticing the time, he’d been gone for four or so hours without contact and Gunnar quickly texted back to Barney that Ying was safe. The man in question gave him a questioning glance and Gunnar slipped his phone back into his back pocket. “My boss.” Somehow Gunnar felt compelled to not mention Ying's father.

A cursory exploration of the apartment turned up no food but the small mini bar was at least partially stocked. And while the saki was great, the vodka was even better and he quickly went for that instead. It looked like the whole place would have been pretty fancy back in the eighties but by now it was really run down and Gunnar was pretty sure there was a bullet hole above the bed. But it was clean and it had a shitty view to the building practically within an arms reach right next to it with only a small alley separating the two. Inaccessible to snipers. Perfect.

Gunnar only got a drink of the vodka though before it was suddenly taken away. Practically too quick for him to realize it.

“Hey!” he protested, giving Ying a shocked and annoyed look.

Ying responded by putting a hand to Gunnar's chest and pushing him into a nearby chair. Not roughly. But just like everything he did - determinedly. And Gunnar didn’t have to let him, having over a foot in height on the cop and over a hundred pounds - but he had let him. More or less because he’d been curious as to what he was doing and why he was doing it. And another small part of Gunnar couldn’t help but like it, like how assertive Ying was. It was just how his mind inevitably worked. And certain other parts of his anatomy.

Ying disappeared into the bathroom and brought a surprisingly heavy duty medical kit back and some towels, setting the vodka aside out of Gunnar's reach. Gunnar already missed it but right now he was much for focused on Ying, the smaller Asian pulling up a chair and opening up the medical kit.

“I can take care of that.” Gunnar said, reaching out for it.

Ying pushed him back - firmly - right back into the chair. He didn’t meet his eyes a lot Gunnar noticed. If at all. But when he did, he really did. And Gunnar wouldn’t call him a timid man, not at all. Shy? Maybe. That was certainly a better word for it. Reserved. Not exactly a people person.

Ying’s eyes flickered to his, just briefly, and Gunnar lived for the momentary contact. He was starting to think the man didn’t have a voice. Usually Gunnar could provoke a reaction out of anyone but Ying was a cop. He was probably just extremely shy or introverted. Problem with the hookers maybe, to explain his behavior earlier? Not good with strangers?

Gunnar figured this was the part where he took his shirt off, sitting up and doing so with a wince as sore muscles protested. “Oh yeah. Going to feel good in the morning.” Bad. He hated to admit it but he really wasn’t as young as he used to be - not by a long shot. And it looked like he couldn't take a beating as well either. Or a long sprint through a majority of a massive city.

Ying’s hands were warm. It was the first thing Gunnar noticed. And his hands weren’t exactly soft. They felt hardened by years of either tough labor or martial arts but the supple strength beneath his fingers wasn’t unwelcome or callused. Gunnar liked women as much as he liked men, maybe women more, but that was something he liked on a man. Strong hands. And dark looks. Dark eyes...

Gunnar's mind briefly flickered back to Barney. Yeah they shared a bed. Yeah the word love was an unspoken but acknowledged thing - only said once between them in their entire on again and off again relationship. But their relationship was exactly that. On again and off, being more on than ever before lately, and Gunnar wouldn’t even be thinking the thoughts he was if he was in a committed relationship or strictly exclusive. Well... Maybe. He couldn’t exactly help it. But he couldn’t exactly help his weaknesses to Asians either. When it came to Barney? Yeah. But him and Barney weren’t committed. And he knew Barney wouldn’t blame him.

A casual fuck with someone undeserving? Yeah. That would piss Gunnar off too. But having some feelings of attraction for a compelling stranger?

Gunnar hissed in pain as Ying patched up his side. He had to use a whole roll of gauze, most of it just to get it around his torso. And then another. And another. “Not so gentle are you?”

Ying glanced up at him and his touch actually noticeably softened. He did understand him.

Gunnar had that thought for the second or third time since meeting the cop. Why he wasn’t speaking, maybe he just couldn’t speak English, was beyond Gunnar though. He may understand it but not speak it. Hell Gunnar wasn’t exactly sure how much he was able to understand. Maybe as a cop he was just good with body language which was a big possibility. While he’d run into pretty dumb cops in his life - Ying obviously wasn’t dumb. Not by a long shot.

He reached out for the bottle of vodka on the counter but Ying pushed his hand down.

Instead of getting irritated, Gunnar thought about it instead. “I won’t get drunk.” he promised Ying.

Ying considered him a moment and then passed the bottle over.

“Thank you.” Gunnar said, wincing as an alcohol wipe touched the cut on his cheek. “Fuck.” he swore but did his best to hold still. That had hurt more than his side.

Again Ying’s eyes flickered up to his and he was closer now, somewhat of an amused smile on his lips. The setting sun, while shitty through the windows blocked from the light by the building across the alley, were doing amazing and dangerous things to Ying’s face. His intelligent, deep black eyes - lean cheeks, angled face, and lips that were probably a bit softer than his hands. And Ying was looking at him more, maybe noticing Gunnar was a bit distracted. The room was starting to feel a bit hot. Or maybe he was just buzzed already, however unlikely that was. Maybe it was the fact that Ying was just Asian. Gunnar had a control problem with those. But it was much more so with women. Not so much with men. Ying was just a mystery and Gunnar loved a good mystery. Especially when it was was attractive. Really attractive. And dangerous.

Ying was suddenly moving but unfortunately it was away from him and not closer. Not other things.

Gunnar watched Ying start to put everything away and took a slow drink of vodka. Yep. He was in a _lot_ of trouble.

 

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

Gunnar woke up to a mostly dark room, flat on his back, staring up at the ceiling. He also woke up in a lot of pain, with a burning in his side and a catch in his breath that didn’t feel good at all. His head felt too damn heavy for his body and he could barely lift it to look around the room. For a second, Gunnar didn’t even know where the hell he was but ‘moving quick’ wasn’t going to happen so lifting his head was all that he could do.

And Ying was suddenly there, pushing him back down by the shoulders. His touch was surprisingly gentle. And there was a bloody towel in his hand.

“What the hell-?” Gunnar lifted a hand that felt wet and looked down at his injured side. Oh... well shit. He must have pulled the knife wound during the night because it was bleeding pretty good. Apparently he’d pulled it open and possibly made it worse too because there was blood covering his hand. Vaguely Gunnar thought he’d been having nightmares but he didn’t remember them. The last thing Gunnar did remember was very nearly breaking his promise about getting completely drunk and passing out heavily on his back.

“Don’t move.”

Gunnar blinked at Ying in surprise. He almost couldn’t grasp that he’d just spoken.

But he had, voice thickly accented. And damn Gunnar liked that accent.

“Sexy.”

Ying gave him a confused look as he tried to clean him up with the same bloodied towel.

“Your voice.” Gunnar explained.

Ying’s face looked to get a little hot and he shot him a glare. But that glare wasn’t a ‘no’. Gunnar was actually used to hearing those more than he’d like to admit. It was the same look he’d gotten in the elevator. And it made Gunnar grin with a breathy chuckle. But the wind was taken out of him when Ying gave up on wiping the blood away and pushed the towel down onto his side instead.

“Fuck me!” Gunnar shouted, vision swimming, dropping his head back down to the bed before he passed out.

“Maybe...” Ying spoke up, gathering up the towel over the wound where he was pressing it down. “Maybe not such a bad idea.”

Gunnar’s head snapped up and he gave Ying a dumbfounded look.

The look Ying gave him was a little smug.

If the point had been to get him back, damn he’d done it good. And Gunnar let his head back down carefully, chuckling as much as his injured side would allow. It wasn’t much but it was worth the pain. He liked this guy. A lot.

Suddenly there was a loud knock on the door. A pounding actually. And it didn’t sound too friendly. The angry Chinese sounded worse.

Gunnar blindly reached over for the table on the side of the bed and found the gun he’d left there. The same automatic he’d stolen from the Triad thugs he’d killed hours ago. There wasn’t many bullets left but in this small of a room he wouldn’t need to try real hard to hit something. But he and Ying had obviously had the same idea because their hands touched and Yang’s eyes met his. But Ying let him have it.

Ying took Gunnar’s other hand and put it over the towel, wordlessly urging him to replace his hand as he swiftly stood and headed for the door.

Gunnar grunted but pushed down as hard as he could. He felt weak. Sluggish. His stomach was burning and he knew he needed food. Vodka hadn’t made a very good dinner.

Ying was deadly calm. His expression was a tense one but the rest of him looked ready for anything and Gunnar didn’t doubt it. The Chinese cop answered the door brazenly, exchanging words with whoever was at the door. For some reason Gunnar just trusted him not to be selling Gunnar out. The thought didn’t even cross his mind beyond a fraction of a second. Between the mere hours they had between them, Gunnar already knew the caliber of who he was on the run with. Because weren’t they? Triad territory was vast in this massive and crowded city. The cops were corrupt. But Ying... Gunnar knew Ying wasn’t.

It only took one second. One second and suddenly things went from ‘momentarily under control’ to complete chaos. Ying moved so quick that Gunnar completely missed what happened in the next few seconds. A spinning back kick to the door by Ying into the men trying to come through the door, shouts of pain as they fell back, and then more were coming. They didn’t stand a chance.

If Gunnar had thought Takashi was good, he was nothing compared to Ying.

But numbers suddenly weren’t on their side and suddenly Gunnar knew even as supernaturally good as Ying appeared to be, anything could go wrong in a second. He was already facing down two reasonably skilled martial artists at once. Gunnar didn’t hesitate to get up as quickly as he could to lend a hand. Just in time too because two other men, and they were a mix of police officers and probably Triad gunman, were taking out guns.

Gunnar kicked one in the chest before he could realize there were two men in the fight now, sending him crashing into the other. Gunnar finished him off with the automatic. Which was stupidly loud in the quiet of the night and he winced, regretting it immediately. The other pushed the body of his comrade off and aimed a gun at Gunnar. Gunnar kicked the gun out of his hand and punched him in the face hard enough to knock him out instantly.

He looked over at Ying just in time to see him take a few steps back from the bodies at his feet. Yep. No problem there. The cop barely looked winded.

“We need to leave.” Ying said instead.

Gunnar found a gun on one of the Triad gunmen and tossed it to Yang. “Damn straight we do. Where now?”

Ying shook his head just a bit, checking the clip. “We have to get out of Triad territory.”

It wasn’t easy for him to speak English. Gunnar realized that what with the deliberately chosen words Ying was using. But damn he had a voice. And that was a whole lot of something. Even though they’d been doing just fine before it was nice to have that open door to some communication.

Ying came close and shook his head at his side. “Not good.”

“Not bad.” Gunnar winced. “Just hit something that doesn’t want to stop bleeding.”

Ying gave him a ‘don’t be stupid look’ and Gunnar relented with a wince. “Yeah that’s still bad. But it’s not a lung. Right?”

“Right.” Ying said and got to work quickly bandaging his side all over again. The peroxide he poured on it was bearable, for someone as used to pain as Gunnar was at least, and Gunnar appreciated how it burned enough to numb the skin just a bit. Made it easier to press gauze down onto the wound and wrap it around his ribs tightly. But shit his stomach felt awful.

Smearing blood across the screen of his phone, Gunnar quickly texted Barney that they were fine but they were in some shit they were trying to get out of. And that he’d keep Ying safe. Even if he really didn't need help in that area apparently.

 _Where are you?_ Barney asked.

Gunnar grimaced in annoyance and wiped the blood off his phone with his jeans. _Don’t know. Let you know soon._

Gunnar lowered the phone and within a few minutes it buzzed in his hand. But his vision swam and he felt a little sick, reaching out and putting a hand heavily on Ying’s shoulder. When he leaned into the man - he didn’t budge. Impressive.

“I have to eat something or I’m not going to make it.”

Yeah he was probably being over dramatic. But hunger made Gunnar damn dramatic. And violently unhappy.

Ying led him through more back alleys, dark and dingy, narrow. It was like a maze but the cop wasn’t running now at least. Again - keeping pace for Gunnar. A dramatically different one than hours before but Gunnar was appreciative. And he surprised him by making Gunnar sit on a pile of stacked crates no more than ten or so minutes later, telling him to wait and rest. But wait for what?

The cop gave him a look. “Just wait.” And then he just left him sitting there.

Gunnar was more than a little confused, but he’d wait it out. He could have walked for longer than ten minutes but he wasn’t complaining either. He felt like shit. The blood loss wasn’t major but it was starting to wear Gunnar down. And the hunger was gnawing at his guts and making him feel sick and a little dizzy. He’d always had a big appetite. But when he was younger it had never led to his body staging an all out riot in protest. And it would get worse until he ended up shaking, angry, and stupidly upset.

Ying wasn’t gone long. He came back with something that smelled hopefully like food. And bottles of water.

“Eat slowly.” he told Gunnar, passing him over a take out carton of what looked like rice and some chopsticks. But even more surprisingly, the food wasn’t greasy or spicy. Something Gunnar probably, on top of the vodka and the empty stomach, definitely couldn’t have held down like he was. Instead it was just fried rice and egg, no soy, and what looked like beef and vegetables. Pretty damn vanilla. And he was unbelievably grateful. And shocked.

Ying just gave him a bit of a smile and nodded to the food, sitting back on some crates nearby and to his own food.

His phone again, Gunnar felt it vibrate in his back pocket. Didn’t help that his pants were thin. And feeling confident enough that his hands weren’t shaking and he could text back, Gunnar tried to console Barney. He had a feeling, judging by the twenty or so urgent texts and the two or three angry voicemails - some threatening - that it wasn’t going to work. So he called the man instead.

 _“Gunnar!”_ Barney took a breath and continued with less shouting. _“Where are you?”_

“Eating food!” Gunnar said defensively. “It’s not easy being on the run!”

Ying was watching him with a little bit of suspicion and Gunnar didn’t like that. Bad timing Barney. Real bad timing. Gunnar didn’t want Ying to get spooked on him. Not because he needed Ying to get out of his mess, he really didn’t. Gunnar was confident he could disappear, find Barney and regroup on his own now. But Ying wasn’t just an objective. Gunnar... Gunnar couldn’t explain what the hell Ying meant to him. But he didn’t want him going anywhere.

_“Just tell me where you are. We can come get you.”_

“Oh yeah?” Gunnar asked, holding Ying’s eyes with his own. _Don’t go anywhere._ He urged the man silently. _Don’t run._ “That transporter of yours?” Man. He sounded a little jealous. And childish. Even to his own ears.

Barney sounded equally like an upset father when he let out a sigh. _“Dammit Gunnar. Trust me. We can come get you.”_

“I’ll call you.” Gunnar hung up the phone and put it on silent and then put it back into his pants. And Ying was still watching him, quietly demanding answers.

So Gunnar took in quiet breath. But he had a gut feeling he couldn’t exactly tell Ying the truth. Not just yet. But he didn’t lie either. “My boss. He’s can be a little...” Gunnar tried to explain it and settled on what immediately came to mind. “He’s got me on a short leash. But I kinda admit that I need one.”

“Your boss.” Ying said. “Did he order you to kill Takashi?”

Now that was something he could say outright. “No. We just got our orders.”

“From who?” Ying demanded.

“He meant a lot to you... didn’t he?” Gunnar asked. There was no question. But Gunnar was really suspecting how deep that it ran. Obviously enough to cut real damn deep.

Ying didn’t answer, just stared at him and Gunnar decided to let it go.

After they were done eating, Ying checked the bandages on Gunnar’s side. Some blood had soaked through his tank top but not the shirt yet. There was that. But the more Gunnar moved, the more it refused to quit. A real problem that was going to require some stitches definitely. Hopefully nothing more.

Ying led them out of the alleys and, surprisingly, no more than a few minutes later they were standing on a busy street. Ying flagged down a taxi and nodded Gunnar inside of it and Gunnar went willingly. It was a welcome relief not to walk. And Ying appeared so relaxed now that it didn’t seem like they were under that much of a threat. Maybe he was just tired. Had he even slept recently or had just Gunnar passed out?

“Where are we going?” Gunnar asked Ying.

Ying turned his head and met his eyes. “To a club.”

Gunnar smiled, even if he was confused. “I guess we’re not going dancing.”

“No.” And that was all Ying said to that. No explanation. No elaboration. Just ‘no’. But he didn’t look away either, looking Gunnar over with a somewhat concerned expression. It was just a flicker. But even that was quite a bit compared to how stoic he usually was, how reserved. Gunnar had a feeling there could be a lot going on behind those darker than dark eyes...

Ying’s eyes met his and he clearly understood that Gunnar’s thoughts had taken a turn.

The cop rolled his eyes and turned his eyes out the window, looking a little flustered. But he covered it up with a quip. “You’ve lost a lot of blood.”

Gunnar gave him a smile but it was also a shocked one. He’d expected any other remark than something that wavered on ‘you only find me attractive because of blood loss’. “Doesn’t help that you’re damn attractive.” Gunnar laughed just a bit. But he winced and chuckled with a bit of a groan. “Damn that knife went deeper than I thought.”

“Stop talking.” Ying said, turning in his seat and unapologetically reaching out to lift up Gunnar’s shirt and check the bandages. Sure enough, they were seeping through.

“No talking? Baby that’s harsh.” Gunnar smiled.

“Don’t call me ‘baby’.”

“Sugar?”

Ying gave him a look. And boy weren’t those looks obvious. He didn’t even need much English when he wanted to get the point across and this one clearly said ‘quit the shit’. But it only made Gunnar laugh.

“No laughing.” Ying said more sternly and promptly tightened the bandages around his ribs to an almost intolerable degree.

Gunnar almost wheezed. “Fine, fine.” he gasped.

Ying almost looked concerned. “Did I hurt you?”

“Yeah but don’t worry I liked it.” Gunnar grinned at him.

Ying rolled his eyes and somewhat over dramatically threw himself back into his place next to Gunnar in the back seat of the cab. “You are impossible.” And did he sound like he was pouting? Because that was adorable. And if Ying wasn’t so damn good at killing people, which was also damn attractive, Gunnar might just have said it out loud. But he decided to keep his mouth shut instead. Did Ying really think he wasn’t attractive? The thought baffled Gunnar and as he pulled his shirt back down, he watched the man curiously. He was guessing Ying wasn’t into women. Not the way he was reacting around him or to his advances and it all made sense, what with how he’d had absolutely zero interest in the hookers.

The cop seemed to be stuck in the middle somewhere. Culturally he couldn’t like men. Ying was from an old family in a masculine profession. Chinese. It didn’t fly so well in circumstances like those. But Ying also didn’t appear to like women. Maybe that had done a number on his self esteem.

Ying sat up and said something in Chinese to the driver and they pulled in to a narrow side street that was hardly room enough for one car. The club they’d stopped next to was packed, a massive neon sign lit up over the front of the building. Didn’t look like too high end of a crowd but there was a lot of people coming and going. Gunnar could not only hear the music from inside the taxi but he could feel it too.

“Come on.” Ying said and Gunnar followed.

Ying leaned in close to a bouncer and said something, also discreetly flashing what looked to be his badge. He did it so discreetly that Gunnar wasn’t even sure that’s what it was. It couldn’t have been anything else.

They were let in right away and Ying was walking with the same casual ‘don’t give a fuck’ attitude like he might be too tired to care either way. But Gunnar was relaxing too. Maybe they were out of Triad territory now. They had to be because Ying didn’t seem concerned anymore.

He followed the cop through the club and the urge to get something to drink was pretty damn hard to resist. He found his eyes traveling over the bar but Gunnar let his keep going, take in their surroundings and take stock of the people in the club. There were dancers but none of them were topless. Just barely dressed. The place was packed with mostly civilians but Gunnar could spot the ones that obviously weren’t. And it made him a little uneasy. But Ying appeared so comfortable here that maybe... Maybe Gunnar hadn’t been so right about the cop being as clean as he appeared to be.

No that wasn’t quite right. Gunnar just didn’t feel like it was for some reason.

But he was suddenly a little wary when Yang led them up some stairs to the top floor of the club and into some back rooms. Clear in the back. The furnishing here, or really in the whole place, was showing it’s use. The blue leather was worn and the neon lights were dimmed. And were those fake bamboo plants?

A woman walked in, young - obviously not a criminal. Or not much of one. She looked surprised to see Ying but concerned and just a little upset. Because the Chinese she was saying was quick and just a little bit accusing.

Ying seemed to either reassure or deflect whatever she was saying and they had a back and forth argument that was over pretty quick. Gunnar had a feeling it involved in him too because the woman kept giving him wary, distrustful looks. But they looked more scared than they did hostile or unkind. She was just scared. Begged the question of why she should be. Gunnar figured, no doubt, that the trouble he’d caused over Takashi - piled on top of Ying going on the run with him - had no doubt shaken up a lot of people. Possibly the entire criminal underworld of Nio Shen, the providence they were in now, cradled near Tokyo’s darker underbelly.

After the woman fell silent, reluctantly apparently, Ying looked to Gunnar and motioned to her. “This is Shei Chen. My sister.”

Gunnar wasn’t sure why that was a surprise.

“She’ll take care of you.” Ying put a hand on Gunnar’s arm and nodded towards a lounge chair. “Lay down.”

Gunnar did as he was told, Ying helping him out his shirt. Shei Chen looked a little afraid of him but he tried to give her a reassuring smile at least - to show her he meant no harm. To his surprise she disappeared and came back with a surgical tray and a small amount of supplies, everything needed for stitches. Her hands were even gloved and Ying smiled a bit, somewhat collapsing into a chair nearby. But he didn’t explain if his sister was either a nurse or a doctor.

For once, a pretty face - and an Asian one at that - wasn’t turning Gunnar’s head. He could be a hopeless flirt but while Shei Chen was pretty... Gunnar only had eyes for Ying. He could be an insufferable flirt, he’d admit this openly. But this... this was a little new. This complete fixation on just one person in a room. But Ying was more than intriguing. He was layered. And somehow, while he was a mystery, he was something solid and straight forward at the same time.

Gunnar kept his eyes on the ceiling for the most part while she stitched up his side. He let himself eyes lose focus and the black tiles on the ceiling run together to distract himself from the pain until it was background noise. Shei Chen seemed surprised he wasn’t screaming or making a lot of noise about it. So Gunnar just gave her an easy smile. Truthfully... he’d endure far worse. But stitches - he really hated stitches.

His lips twitched with what might have been a wince and he stopped thinking about them. Damn did he hate stitches.

“Drink.”

Gunnar blinked and noticed Ying standing close by, holding out a bottle of water and took it gratefully. “So now what?” he asked him. “Is this where I get off?”

Ying looked at Shei Chen and nodded her out but at least the gesture was a gentle one with a reassuring smile. Gunnar looked down at her handiwork and he had to admit that he was impressed. Not bad. Not bad at all.

“Depends.” Ying tilted his head at him, fixing him with a look. “Who ordered you to kill Takashi?”

Gunnar knew that a real, straightforward answer was the only option here. And Ying deserved one. “Your father.”

Ying’s expression went from sudden, cold shock... to a hurt look that Gunnar wanted to immediately take away. He felt for him. He really did. More than he probably should. He definitely shouldn’t have gotten this close. But now he couldn’t help it. And before he could say anything, even to apologize despite how useless that might be, suddenly the door they’d come in opened. Loudly. As in kicked in.

Gunnar was reaching for his gun and aiming it at the door but he immediately lowered it in shock. And then laughed at the guy standing next to Barney. His face said he meant business but that suit he was wearing. “Who the hell is this? Your chauffeur?”

Barney gave him a look that suggested Gunnar had chosen the worst time to crack a joke and he did not look amused. The man standing on his left looked like he was going to kill him and while Gunnar wasn’t all that worried or afraid... Gunnar was under the impression that he had said something to exactly the wrong person. Probably at the worst time. But that was his mouth wasn’t it? Always opening when it should stay shut.

“Mengyao Ying?” Barney asked the cop. “I realize you’ve been through a lot-”

“Barney he’s a cop.” Gunnar said.

“I know that.” Barney drew in a breath. “Your father wants to make sure you’re all right and we’re supposed to bring you back to him.”

Ying looked equal parts disgusted, though not with Barney, and hurt. “And why should I go back? When will a father kill his son too?”

“You told him?” the transporter demanded, glaring at Gunnar in shock. And British. Suited his default expression, which seemed to be pissed off. And though he struck Gunnar as damn intelligent, he also seemed like just what they all were. Hired guns. Killers. Mercenaries.

Gunnar winced and looked at Barney, begging him to understand. He couldn’t even begin to explain. But before either of them could - Ying took advantage of the moment and made a break for it. What Gunnar didn’t expect was for him to go right for a window. And fast. He was so damn fast. And again, acting on impulses he couldn’t even explain, Gunnar went after him.

“Gunnar!” Barney shouted.

Gunnar ignored him. Ying was shook up real bad. Gunnar felt like the cop's whole life had just been upended. And he wasn’t going to let him run off to deal with it alone. And maybe he should. What the hell did he actually know? But something in Gunnar’s gut told him he had to go after the cop and that he was doing the right thing. That look in Ying’s eyes. The hurt and the shock. Takashi’s death had broken something and his father’s betrayal seemed to be the last straw.

Like Ying might do something out of grief and hurt that could cause a lot of damage. Damage that he might not be able to come from. And if he couldn't? Fine. But Gunnar was going to at least give him someplace to land when he was done with whatever he was after. Be that vengeance or simple revenge.

 

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

Gunnar didn’t even think about what he was doing or how little sense it made. He just ran. He ran after Ying like his life depended on it. And though the cop was just out of reach no matter how hard he pushed himself, Gunnar knew that if Ying had really wanted to lose him - he could have in a heartbeat. It seemed like the man was warring with himself. To stop or to keep running. And it was like he couldn’t decide which.

But neither of them made it very far. A short jump to a roof and a sprint across the next building already had Gunnar winded. He was running his absolute hardest and Ying was nearly a shadow, just out of his grasp. The jump to the next building just about did Gunnar in but fortunately Ying made a dash for a ladder. If he could just get close enough to yell at him or something -

Gunnar heard the sound of wood splintering and felt the world give way.

His left foot had gone right through a badly patched roof and it was a wonder it was only his leg that had fallen through. But he was stuck clear up to his hip and Gunnar was half expecting to look up and just see Ying gone.

It was raining pretty heavily now and Ying looked upset and conflicted as he hurried over to where Gunnar was. Not exactly stuck, but definitely in a position where a hand wouldn’t hurt. And Gunnar couldn’t tell if it was just the rain, but Ying looked so upset that Gunnar hoped he wasn’t crying. He wouldn’t blame him. Hell his whole life had probably just gone to shit and his father had been responsible.

And it seemed like a lot more than that could be going on too.

It wasn’t easy getting his leg out of the roof. Ying tried his hardest but it took a lot of work and they both collapsed to the roof, now slick with the steady downpour over Tokyo and just laid there for a moment. Ying looked out of breath but Gunnar had a feeling it was just because he was so upset. And then he rolled over and stood, getting to his feet with a bit of a stumble.

Gunnar didn’t hesitate, finding his own feet a lot less easily but getting there.

And then Ying just walked away. But Gunnar didn’t hesitate and followed him.

A lot like over the past day or so, Ying could easily lose him. But he didn’t. And that was the only sign Gunnar needed that the cop wanted him around. He seemed less upset after making a run for it, like he’d worked out some of his grief and anger, but Gunnar wasn’t fooled. Because now Ying just looked more than a little defeated. And that was just as concerning.

They didn’t walk far. Ying flagged down another taxi and the car ride was a silent one. Gunnar had no idea where they were going and he didn’t ask. In a lot of ways he was just along for the ride. And yeah he couldn’t help but feel a little guilty. Sure it was a paid job. Takashi had been a piece of shit but he’d meant something to Ying. Even though he didn’t regret what he’d done, he did regret Ying going through all this hell. The least he could do was stick around.

They got out on a busy street and Gunnar felt noticeably ... Noticed. Topless and taller than a majority if not all of the population of Japan, it was still raining and he was soaked. The rain was starting to taper off but that didn’t change the fact that Gunnar was like a big, neon sign. It was no wonder Ying took them back to the side streets, the darker alleys. But they didn’t walk far. A run down apartment complex that looked only about five or six stories, the building wasn’t all that big. Ying took them in through the back but they headed down instead of up or to any of the apartment doors.

Gunnar was guessing this wasn’t where Ying lived. He wouldn’t be that dumb. But he was still wondering where they were going. Probably to some sort of safe house for the time being.

He was right. There was a small underground apartment laid out in the basement. Nice place. Simple but modern. Everything looked to have a place. Gunnar was usually nervous in places like these, because he stood out, but Ying’s place didn’t exactly make him feel that way. And it was obviously just a safe house because there were no personal touches, no obvious signs that Ying lived here in the long term.

“Shower is down the hall.” Ying said, taking some food out of the fridge. Take out boxes. But Gunnar’s stomach rumbled in approval. It felt like days since he’d eaten even though Gunnar knew it had only been three or four hours. “I’ll find you some clothes.”

Gunnar took that as a hint and went through the kitchen, down the only hall in the basement apartment. The shower was a walk in and just as modern as the rest of the place, large, and for once Gunnar was actually in a shower he didn’t have to worry about hitting his head on. He wondered about Ying. About the place they were staying in, what kind of life he might have led straddling the lines between cop and Yakuza. His entire family was in it deep but the sister had been a surprise. And she obviously had a medical background.

Gunnar filed that away to ask Ying about it later.

The hot water felt better than good, it felt a lot like paradise. The rain had been a cold one and it was turning out to be a cold spring for Japan. But while the hot water also reminded Gunnar of how old he actually was, bringing out all the aches and pains and fatigue from the past day or so, he wouldn’t have traded it for anything. And it felt good being here with Ying. Nothing about them should work. Nothing about either of them suggested even the possibility of a friendship. But here they were - thrown together in the middle of Tokyo with a lot more than friendship on Gunnar’s mind.

Barney was on Gunnar’s mind too. There was going to be hell to pay for this one and Gunnar didn’t even have drugs to blame for it. And that was a sudden, interesting thought. He hadn’t been craving the meth. Not even thinking about it. And sure he’d been more than a little preoccupied but even standing in a shower feeling every ache, being reminded of that unbearable fatigue that had chased him into drugs in the first place, he hadn’t even thought about the meth. And wasn’t that interesting.

Gunnar hadn’t heard Ying come into the bathroom but apparently he had. By the time he shut the water off and stepped out of the shower, making it a short ten minutes despite wanting to stay in it for hours, there were loose black pants waiting for him that actually looked as though they’d fit. And Gunnar wondered how Yang had made those appear.

There was no shirt but Gunnar realized he was operating in territory here that didn’t exactly allow for things to be readily made available in his own size. It was a wonder he even had pants and his mercenary instincts were kicking in. He had some contacts in Tokyo but not nearly as much as further West. His territory was Russia and had they been stranded in that country the story would have been very different. Such as it was, Gunnar knew he’d have to get in touch and set up a supplies drop. The plane was miles away. Barney was going to have his ass for this. And right now, Gunnar wanted to distance himself from anything Expendables related.

They were operating in entirely different waters now.

Ying disappeared to take a shower after pushing food at him and Gunnar struggled not to make quick work of it. That was one thing about being off the drugs. His appetite was pretty much out of control and without the meth kicking up his metabolism and everything else into high gear, Gunnar had to consider a food to work out ratio he hadn’t had to factor in before.

They didn’t go to sleep right away, even though Gunnar was sure they were both exhausted. Instead, Ying sat up with something that might be saki and Gunnar stayed with him. He had a feeling Ying wasn’t going to get drunk but it looked like he was considering it. The man was far too controlled to actually go that far, Gunnar was sure of it, especially with how Ying had disliked Gunnar’s propensity to drink far too much.

With only a small fireplace as lighting, it might have been romantic. If Ying didn’t look like his entire life had just fallen apart at his feet and his eyes weren’t cold and just a bit defeated.

“What are you going to do now?” Gunnar asked him into the quietness of the room.

The answer was a surprising one. “I’m going to kill my father.”

Well. Gunnar hadn’t actually been expecting that. Not that the bastard didn’t have it coming. He really did. But Ying had a Chinese family steeped in old world tradition. And you didn’t exactly go around killing your parents with a culture background that deep. Even if they had it coming. Apparently Ying was deciding it was worth it. And Gunnar wasn’t so sure he’d argue with him.

“I’ll go with you.” Gunnar replied quietly.

Ying’s father was seriously well guarded. He had more security, and money, than most of the big fish in Japan’s criminal underworld. Taking him down would be no easy task... And he was definitely going to catch hell from Barney for this one. But it wasn’t like the Expendables - all two of them - would be judged for it by any future employers. They’d completed the job despite it going bad. It wasn’t on them if their employer’s son decided to take out their former client. And Gunnar wasn’t acting as an Expendable. He was acting for himself.

“Your sister...” Gunnar said. He wasn’t sure how to ask. But he didn’t have to.

“My father arranged her marriage when she was only thirteen years old. The man she was married to raped and beat her.” Ying tipped his head to one side, considering the glass in his hand. “Until she ripped off his gāowán and tried to shove them down his throat.”

Gunnar was guessing either ‘balls’ or ‘dick’ was the rough translation of that one.

“She was fifteen. And my father didn’t care. He beat her too.” Ying let out a slow breath and sat back further in his chair. “The world will be a much better place without him.”

Gunnar wasn’t going to argue that. Not one damn bit. And he was guessing this was just one incident of many that was on the long, long list of reasons why Tzeng Ying needed to die. Gunnar was actually wondering how the hell and why the hell Barney had even taken a job from him in the first place. The only explanation was that Barney might not have known about all this. Tzeng might have been too good at hiding it. And while the Expendables looked into their clients thoroughly before taking a job, if they didn’t know of them already, maybe this one had just slipped through.

Ying suddenly stood, pushing himself out of the chair, and walking away towards what had to be the bedroom. “Are you coming?”

Gunnar was a little too shocked by the statement to form an immediate response. Maybe he’d taken that statement in entirely the wrong direction but then again maybe he couldn’t help it either.

“There is only one bed and you are too big for the couch.”

There was an undercurrent of something in Ying’s voice, beneath the nonchalant and ‘don’t give a fuck’ attitude he usually had. Nerves? Sounded like. Gunnar was getting used to reading the lines of his body, the varying degrees of tension, and even the stoic gaze that usually revealed absolutely nothign. Ying was nervous.

Gunnar debated for a fraction of a second and stood to follow.

The bed wasn’t all that big. Well, not for one very large Swedish man and another, smaller Chinese man. It probably would have been all right otherwise but while Ying was pretty short - he was still a full grown man. Gunnar tried to give him enough space otherwise but he still felt like he was crowding him. And Ying was really struggling to look like he didn’t give a fuck now. Gunnar was actually worried that those nerves were turning into something like fear and he hesitated.

“I can sleep on the floor.” Gunnar said. Even though he really didn’t want to do that.

“No.” Ying rolled over, turning his back to him. “Just shut up and go to sleep.”

Gunnar let it go and decided to listen. If only just this once.

But his body didn’t listen. Not even a little bit. Not even slightly. Gunnar woke up he didn’t know how many hours or minutes later - pressed right up against Ying with not an inch to spare, an arm draped around his midsection, practically dwarfing the cop in his arms. And Ying was definitely not sleeping. If the way he was staring at the ceiling like a rabbit caught by a wolf, completely frozen and looking something close to terrified, was any indication. And it was a pretty damn good one.

Gunnar almost didn’t know how to handle the situation. At least he wasn’t hard. Which was a crazy shock. It was like some of him, somewhere, had decided to be just a little polite and considerate for once in his damn life. And while he was sure Ying could have kicked him out of the bed and or kicked his ass if he’d really wanted - Gunnar wasn’t sure what he should do. He wasn’t so sure that either one of those options still wouldn’t happen.

Gunnar moved cautiously, pulling his arm away none too quickly. Slowly in fact. So he didn’t spook Ying any further than he already, obviously was. And there were a number of possibilities running through Gunnar’s head. The cop didn’t seem to be all that interested in women. Like not at all, not hardly, not even slighlty. Even spending just twenty four hours around him in close qaurters, Gunnar had been guessing he was into men. But he probably couldn’t be because of heavy, deep rooted cultural issues. Given the father that he had, this fear could be legit. Given the nationality Ying was - the fear was already pretty damn legit. Ying had probably had to hide his entire life. This was definitely the closest Ying had probably even been to another man. And... Gunnar knew he was a lot of man on top of everything else.

Ying did something though that Gunnar really didn’t expect. He reached out and grabbed his wrist, stopping Gunnar from removing his arm completely. And Gunner’s hand was now splayed across his stomach and Ying’s eyes met his and... oh. Fuck.

Ying had obviously decided, what with his life as messed up as it was now, that denying his own sexuality was kinda pointless now. He still looked overwhelmed and terrified but hell... Gunnar was Gunnar. He wasn’t going to say no. He’d never been too good at that anyway. And he was happy to help Ying say ‘fuck it all’ and shove his repressed upbringing right out the damn window.

It was more than a little thrilling too. Fuck. There wasn’t a word for how much this was getting to Gunnar. Ying had never even probably seriously touched another man. Never intimately. And here was. Untouched and asking for that to be changed.

Gunnar leaned in, moving with the same care as before, and gave Ying plenty of time to stop him before their lips touched. And yeah. Ying definitely had no idea what he was doing. His lips didn’t even move and his eyes didn’t stop watching him. So Gunnar just pressed his lips to Ying’s with a breath of pleasure he couldn’t stop. And he had a feeling that Ying needed the opposite. He needed to see how much he was wanted. How attractive he was. There had to be a billion and one questions in his mind and Gunnar was more than willing to go down the list with a ready answer.

Gunnar carefully, because he was huge compared to the smaller Asian man, settled on top of Ying - letting him feel some of his weight. Ying had let him between his legs and while he was breathing quick, the hands that found Gunnar’s chest were curious. His hips were open and they weren’t tight. Gunnar felt like he was wanted there, right where he was, and that was good. Damn that felt good too.

When he leaned down for another kiss, Ying actually responded. And he didn’t seem to have a lot of experience with even kissing but Gunnar grunted in approval as he tried. Gunnar had probably too much experience. And he coaxed Ying to match him in something easy, not too deep, drawing him into a steadily deeper kiss.

Gunnar ran a hand over Ying’s body and damn the way the cop arched up into his touch was electrifiying and damn addicting. He was so responsive. And Gunnar couldn’t imagine how hypersensitive he might be, what with this being his first sexual experience with another man. The thought made Gunnar growl in approval and he leaned down, biting at Ying’s neck, encouraging more of that responsiveness from him. Hell more of that fight Gunnar knew him for. And he got it. As soon as his teeth lightly sunk into Ying’s neck, mouthing at the skin, the man reached up and grasped the back of Gunnar’s neck - pushing his hips right into Gunnar’s whether he knew what he was doing or not.

But the hardness between Ying’s legs connecting with Gunnar’s own erection briefly forced the air out of his lungs. Gunnar coaxed Ying through another kiss, putting just a bit more weight into him but not all that much. He just held his hips where they were because there was a noticeble tremble running through Ying’s body and hands. He was already overwhelmed and Gunnar didn’t exactly want to push him over into something like fear again. He didn’t want to spook him, no matter how eager Ying seemed to be.

Ying touched his stomach but Gunnar felt the hesitation. He pulled back from the kissing that had rapidly gotten easier as Ying learned - and learned damn quick - and met his eyes. Ying was almost frozen again, like he wanted to go further more than anything but was just stuck standing on that ledge. Gunnar had enough age, and experience, to go with gut instinct.

He reached down and covered Ying’s hand, guiding it further down his stomach and into his loose fitting, black pants. He had to fight the urge to grit his teeth, to even breathe properly, because damn Ying’s hand felt good against his skin. And when his smaller hand nudged against the head of his erection and tenatively started to touch it, Gunnar was feeling real happy about his lengthy and sometimes troublesome endurance between the sheets.

The look on Ying’s face was the next best part and Gunnar stuffed down the urge to grin. He gave Gunnar a look that easily said ‘are you fucking kidding me’ and Gunnar might have covered up the grin but yeah, some of it was probably there. Gunnar knew he was... ‘proportionate’ to his height and weight. It was more a real issue than it was a gift or any number of stupid things younger and dumber men liked to brag about. Fitting a dick his size into anything was usually a lot of fucking work. ‘Quick’ sex wasn’t a thing. It just wasn’t.

Ying took him in hand and gave a tenative stroke. He seemed surprised by the foreskin, the way it pulled back over the head, and Gunnar just watched his face - avidly taking it all in, enjoying it, enjoying Ying’s hand on him. He let him explore, let him touch, he didn’t rush him at all. Ying seemed caught up in the experience and he deserved that. He deserved to take as much time as he wanted. Ying was younger than him but he was still an older man. And that was a lot of years to go without exploring your own damn sexuality.

Ying shifted a glance down at his pants and Gunnar figured he wanted to look. So he obliged him, feeling that he was curious enough by the fact that he was uncut, pushing his pants just past his hips and freeing his erection. Ying shifted to get a better look and damn... That was hot. It was unspeakably hot watching Ying watch himself touch Gunnar’s cock, stroke it.

Ying’s eyes suddenly met his and there was that intensity again. That same intensity that had led them to the hear and now, Gunnar on top of Ying with the cop’s hand on his dick. He definitely wanted more and Gunnar was happy to oblige him. Because he did too.

Gunnar urged him into a slow kiss, tentatively deepening it. And the awkwardness of that first tentative touch of tongue against tongue Gunnar easily smoothed over by his own experience. It pulled a groan from him, deep into his chest, and he got to the point. Because Ying was a straight to the point type of guy. But he didn’t want to rush this either.  
So he got Ying’s shirt off over his head and kissed and mouthed, bit at the skin down his neck and across his chest - letting him feel the size of his hands over his body, his arms, a collarbone. Ying’s nipples were sensitive but paying attention to those only seemed to wind him up further. Like he wanted more of everything faster than he could even process what was already happening.

This might not go as slow as Gunnar had thought it should. But if that was a pace Ying needed, he couldn’t deny him that either. He’d probably waited long enough to even experience kissing another guy. And Gunnar wanted all of Ying with the same right now feeling. It was damn mutual.

Gunnar pressed his erection into Ying’s, murmuring in his ear. “We need-”

Ying obviously was smart enough to get the idea. Because he was pushing at Gunnar’s chest firmly and was suddenly gone from the bed. And when he came back he had a bottle of gun oil in hand, dropping it to the bed. Gunnar raised an eyebrow at it approvingly. Well that took care of that. Obviously Ying was prepared for the idea of what was about to happen. He hadn’t shied from Gunnar’s size and Gunnar smiled as he pulled Ying back into bed before he could hesitate, look unsure, or before he could even wonder ‘what next’.  
Gunnar took his mouth in a kiss that was deep, demanding. And Ying gave it right back with a struggle of dominance that was all Ying. He couldn’t go without just a little bit of fight. And Gunnar loved it.

Gunnar urged Ying over onto his stomach and started kissing down his back, running his hands down a few scars, enjoying the differences in the shades of their skin. He took Ying’s pants off, biting just above his hips, and letting out a pleased growl at the ass that was revealed to him. Gunnar immediately took it into his hands and squeezed, kissing just above Ying’s tailbone and reveling in the way that Ying was breathless, trembling under his hands. It was like he was trying to make noises but just couldn’t, mostly silent, and even that was erotic for some reason.

Ying’s ass fit perfectly in his hands and Gunnar spread it wide, putting his mouth on him before Ying could even wonder what was about to happen next, but just above his anus. Just above to give him just enough warning that he could say no right now. But no didn’t happen.

Gunnar didn’t waste another second, stroking his tongue over Ying’s ass and sucking. And there was a noise. Somewhere like a choked and very loud cry, Ying clamped his mouth down on any more noise but Gunnar had gotten that one. And it had made his cock throb and the head of it feel wet. Fuck he couldn’t wait to be buried so deep inside of Ying, all of him, into that tight little ass. But he loved this too, licking Ying’s ass, spreading him open with his hands as he thoroughly ravished him with his mouth. He tasted good too. The man was as apparently big on hygiene as he was those control issues of his.

Gunnar had big fingers, so he didn’t skimp on the gun oil. He knew one alone, to a virgin ass, was going to feel like a pretty big something. Ying did hesitate just a little bit and Gunnar felt it under his hands. So he stopped just before pushing a finger in. “You good?” he asked, mouthing a kiss against his ass.  
Ying gave a somewhat shaky nod but it was a definitive one.

So Gunnar pushed against that tight - very tight ring of muscle and slid his finger in steady and slow but he didn’t stop. He just stroked inside of him until Ying started to relax, making noises he was obviously trying to fight down, chest and sides heaving with gasping breaths. He was fucking gorgeous and Gunnar couldn’t help but give a loud groan at the sight and the feel of the man beneath him. “That’s it.” he groaned, voice deep with praise and a low growl. “Fuck yeah.”

It took awhile. But Ying was nothing if not determined and Gunnar was patient. It might have even taken a good half hour or more before he got three fingers inside and shit Ying was so tight that Gunnar was actually concerned. But he was just about there and so long as Ying was down to wait - and he seemed to be enjoying himself as much as he was overwhelmed beyond reason - Gunnar kept going. If anything he knew how big he was. He knew what he had to do to get Ying there.

And it took a bit more time but he did it.

Gunnar urged Ying onto his back and when the man hesitated, seemingly a bit confused, Gunnar pressed a kiss into his shoulder. “I’m not going to take you like that.” he said and Ying seemed actually a little relieved. Gunnar thought wouldn’t be the type to want to not see what was coming and he was right And Gunnar wanted to watch him anyway. He wanted to see the look on his face and put everything to memory when he finally slid inside of the smaller man, wanted to watch every gasp and catch every noise.

Gunnar hesitated when Ying reached down to push his pants off his hips but let him. He had a lot of scars. And some of the ones he was least proud of... were self inflicted. The ones on his upper thighs were the absolute worst and honestly, he’d mostly considered taking Ying from behind just so that he couldn’t see them. But Gunnar was pegging Ying as the type to look past them. It wasn’t like they were asking for a long term relationship here. And if Ying didn’t already know that he had issues, well.

Ying’s eyes went right to his scars. They were impossible to miss. Gunnar was pale and the scars were old but... Gunnar gave Ying a questioning look but Ying’s eyes just met his and... And was there a note of sympathy in those dark eyes? Caring? Compassion? It was such an open, fleeting thing that Gunnar was momentarily shocked. But he pushed that aside and covered Ying’s body with his own. Better to avoid anything like that right now. It was more than enough that Ying hadn’t judged him outright.

Kissing him deep, Gunnar reached down and put a hand beneath one of Ying’s knees, pushing it up. He was flexible. All those martial arts. This wouldn’t be hard at all on his back. And Ying wasn’t one for talking. So Gunnar just gave them what they both wanted, holding Ying’s eyes with his own and not looking away for a second. He didn’t want to miss a thing but he also didn’t want to hurt the man. Any sign that he wanted this to stop and Gunnar wanted to be the first to see it.

It wasn’t easy. And it took a couple minutes. But Ying was a fucking sight to behold and as Gunnar eased inside him deep... It was about the best thing he’d ever felt in his life. And Ying was something he didn’t feel like he could break either. So when he was finally settled completely inside of the man with his entire length - Ying looked torn apart between coming undone right then and there and just losing it.

“Breathe.” Gunnar grunted, biting at Ying’s jaw. He got a bit of a glare that said ‘how the fuck am I supposed to do that’ but Gunnar just breathed an easy grin - riding a high of a different sort altogether right now. Ying was so tight Gunnar was almost dizzy. It felt insanely good but at the same time, Gunnar was questioning how long he was going to even last at this rate. Fortunately? Unquestionably Ying was on the same page.

Ying was actually loud at first. As Gunnar started short, deep thrusts, measured and careful ones all the same - Ying was already hard and leaking. At some point he sucked in a breath and held it and Gunnar almost told him to breathe again. But then he pushed in as far as he could and hit something that was impossible to miss with how big Gunnar was - and Ying let out the breath explosively. The smaller man reached down for Gunnar’s legs and it was amazing how small his hands actually felt on his thighs. Gunnar quickened his pace, at this rate he wasn’t going to last, and felt Ying squeeze his thighs encouragingly. Just over his scars.

Gunnar found a scar just beneath Ying’s ribs and gently bit at the skin, kissing the faded mark, and then turned his attention to a collarbone and neck. Ying was coming apart right underneath him and Gunnar was right behind. It only took a few more minutes but Ying beat him to it. Thighs holding tight to Gunnar’s hips, he watched with a low growl of pleasure as Ying came. Without even being touched.

It was the hottest fucking thing and Gunnar fell right over that edge no more than a few seconds later. He held on just long enough to watch Ying’s cock spill all over his stomach, without a single hand on it, and then let himself fall over too. Gunnar actually came so hard he almost lost his grip on the headboard, Ying’s shouts filling the room, Gunnar forgetting how to make any noise at all.

Gunnar took Ying’s hands in his and put them over the man’s head, stretching leisurely out on top of him, leaning some weight into the cop while he came down from the high he’d just crashed over at what felt like a hundred miles an hour. There would have to be a repeat experience. And that thought, looking down at Ying, was a sudden one. He wanted this to happen again.

Ying was watching him and then he smiled. Gunnar let his hands go when he pulled them away and Ying pulled him in for a deep kiss. And that that was more than enough for Gunnar.

 

When Gunnar woke up the next morning - the bed was empty. Gunnar’s hand came up with empty sheets but not exactly an empty bed. There was a note where Ying had been and Gunnar rolled over, barely awake and feeling more than a little like his age.

But the note was directions. Brief and to the point. Where to meet him and what time.

It looked like they were going after Tzeng after all.

It was a date.

TBC


End file.
